


An Issue of Trust

by DebbieF



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-15 01:38:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4588128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DebbieF/pseuds/DebbieF
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nothing bad really happens in this story but considering the content I rated it for teen and up anyway.<br/>This is a stand alone story.<br/>See bottom for note:</p><p>++++</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Issue of Trust

_Captain Treville's office_

The three young men stood at attention in front of their captain. They were handpicked for this mission and looked forward to proving to Captain Treville that he hadn't misplaced his trust in them. Though they all understood what had contributed to their being chosen for this particular mission... for they were all very appealing to the eye.

It was that very _appeal_ that brought them to the attention of Treville as his eyes roamed over Jacques, Felix and, last but certainly not least ... _d'Artagnan_. The last pick had caused him any number of self doubts. If Athos ever discovered where he was sending the boy, Treville foresaw rough waters ahead for all concerned. Out of them all d'Artagnan was an extremely goodlooking lad but also the youngest of the lot at a mere nineteen years of age, compared to Felix and Jacques who were both in their mid twenties, though in appearance they looked younger than their years.

"Gents, you understand your assignment?"

A chorus of _yes sirs_ greeted Treville's ears as he paced back and forth in front of the small group, pausing every now and then before each one to study them in turn. When he got to d'Artagnan, Treville sighed and shook his head wondering if he were doing the correct thing by the lad. Still needs must and he ended up waving his hand in dismissal, sending them all on their way.

"Sir."

Noticing d'Artagnan still standing in front of his desk with what could only be described as anxiety written on his expressive face, Treville's gaze softened. "What is it, d'Artagnan?"

"The _others_?" d'Artagnan lifted his brow in question knowing he didn't have to explain himself further than that.

"Ah!" Treville smiled. "As far as _they_ are concerned I've teamed the three of you up for a simple recon mission that will take the better part of a week to complete."

"Merci," d'Artagnan quickly released a breath he hadn't even realized he had been holding until that moment.

Watching the boy depart Treville prayed once more to whatever guardian angel protected d'Artagnan to be ever vigilant and not get distracted by other heavenly issues, knowing the lad would need all the help he could garner.

++++

_The Rue Baille-Hoe brothel located within the more disreputable parts of Paris_

"Nearly a week here and all I've got to show for it is a bruised rear from all the pinching its received from our so-called clientele," Felix snickered.

"I have the same complaint, mon frere," Jacques snorted while watching d'Artagnan dancing away from another eager pair of hands. "I think this has been much harder on the boy than for us."

"You have the right of it at that," Felix agreed. "D'Artagnan's had so many of the patrons eager to push their tongues down his throat that I've lost count."

Seeing d'Artagnan's flushed face as he approached them, the two Musketeers grew concerned as the lad appeared more out of sorts than usual since this assignment began.

"What troubles you so?" Felix reached out to grab the youngster's arm, pulling him closer to his side.

"Monsieur Salomon just informed me my _services_ have been purchased by one of his regulars," d'Artagnan bit down on his lower lip which threatened to tremble from the unknown. Not wanting his comrades to worry about him, d'Artagnan tried to smile but it was a sad attempt at best. 

"It's happened to all of us in the short time we've been here and we've all managed to get out of it relatively unscathed." Though Jacques remembered the last gentleman that bought d'Artagnan for the night. That individual ran out of the boy's room limping from d'Artagnan's attack on him with the young Musketeer's main gauche. The lad had acquitted himself well, still it had left d'Artagnan badly shaken. The only thing in all of their favor was the fact that none of the clients they had fended off thus far had complained to the owner. In this lady luck had chosen not to be fickle and had been on their side.

"Something tells me this time is different, eh, d'Artagnan?" Felix noted the wary look crossing the youngster's features and started to feel ill at ease as well.

"See that _brute_ over there in the corner standing close to one of the gaming tables," d'Artagnan pointed the patron out to them, "the one talking to Monsieur Salomon."

"Merde!" Felix swore and exchanged an almost comical look with Jacques.

"I thought Porthos' bulk was massive," Jacques whistled through his teeth.

"I feel oh so much better that you felt the need to clarify that," d'Artagnan rolled his eyes.

"Perhaps we can smuggle d'Artagnan out the back way," Felix suggested but noticed the negative shake of Jacques' head.

"Exits are well covered remember?" Jacques' mind worked furiously trying to figure a way out of this for d'Artagnan.

As the two older Musketeers observed d'Artagnan looking sicker by the minute they were shaken from their own concerns for him when they realized the barkeep, Henri, had been trying to gain their attention. The man had been waving his white towel in the air at them. If d'Artagnan's situation hadn't seemed so troublesome it would have been amusing. Henri gave the appearance of someone who had lost a battle and was waving the white flag.

"We've got to get back to work," Jacques muttered. Seeing the wide-eyed frantic look d'Artagnan sent him he leaned in close, placing a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder. "Stall for as long as you can," he caught Felix' eye, "we'll think of something."

"This assignment should have been a piece of cake," Felix hissed. "Get the goods on Salomon, whose been reported to be blackmailing his clients, so we can shut his operation down for good."

"Yeah, but so far we've been coming up empty," Jacques agreed. "If it wasn't for some of the nobles who frequent this establishment complaining to His Majesty I doubt we'd be even lifting a finger to close this place."

"Guys," d'Artagnan said, "Henri looks ready to shoot us where we stand and besides I think his hand's getting tired of waving that towel around." Hating for them to leave but knowing it was for the best, d'Artagnan shooed his brothers away. "You two best go see what Henri needs before he does find himself a pistol." Watching them head for the barkeep, d'Artagnan felt alone as never before. He missed the company of the inseparables. Together they worked like a well oiled machine, er well for the most part that is. He admitted to himself there had been more than one occasion where improvisation had saved their lives rather than calculated planning had done.

Hearing his name called out shook d'Artagnan from his thoughts as he noted Henri pointing for him to go to a table that was located near the center of the room. Knowing what awaited him later, it was with a heavy heart d'Artagnan went over to wait on the customers.

Not particularly paying attention to the table's occupants, d'Artagnan's head was bent down as he waited to jot down on a piece of paper their drink orders. Being dark and dingy inside d'Artagnan couldn't see anyone's face clearly and could have cared less what the patrons looked like. But the minute the first man told him what type of wine he'd like, d'Artagnan's head snapped up and his mouth fell open in shock as he stared into the furious blue eyes of his mentor.

Not knowing whether he should be filled with overwhelming relief or duck for cover, d'Artagnan continued with his charade as he swiftly finished writing the orders. Walking away from their table d'Artagnan wondered how he could signal his other comrades that reinforcements had arrived for whatever the reason. For those two were also in for an unpleasant surprise as the other men accompanying Athos were Victor and Maximilien. Both older Musketeers were in charge of their own units of which Felix and Jacques were part of.

Wondering still on why Athos and the other men were here dwelled on d'Artagnan's mind to say the least. They were either going to lend a supporting hand or Captain Treville sent them to just babysit. That last option didn't sit well with d'Artagnan at all. But it did seem that the three older men were none to pleased to see him in this place. Not having much time to contemplate further, d'Artagnan waited as Henri filled his tray with the Musketeer's order. But before he left Henri informed him to finish up quickly. Apparently that _brute_ was giving Monsieur Salomon trouble, irritated that he had been made to wait longer than he wished to be with d'Artagnan, especially after having paid the owner a nice sum of money for the pleasure.

Not knowing what to do now that Athos was truly here, d'Artagnan grabbed the tray and returned to their table. When he placed Athos' wine in front of him his mentor grabbed d'Artagnan's shaking hand.

"I gave Treville hell when I got suspicious of this _recon_ mission he sent you, Felix and Jacques on," Athos said with feeling. "Victor and Maximilien were just as up set as I." He noted d'Artagnan's eyes darting back and forth between all three of them and then finally coming back to rest on himself last. "The only thing that prevented me from throwing a punch at the captain was the thought that Treville put his trust in you and the others."

This is exactly what d'Artagnan didn't need. He could picture the explosion that was Athos dressing down Captain Treville. It would be a miracle if the captain ever let him outside the garrison walls again. "Meaning _you_ didn't _trust_ us enough to see this job through." D'Artagnan's glance took in the other two Musketeer's jaws clamped tightly shut, holding back whatever it was they thought needed to be said but were letting Athos do the talking for now. "None of you did." Well d'Artagnan would be damned if he'd ask for Athos' help now! "Your _faith_ in us is quite overwhelming," he added sarcastically. "Excuse me, gentlemen," he dipped his head, "as I have to tend to a _special_ client."

"That could have gone better," Athos remarked ruefully as he watched the boy flounce off in a huff.

"What the deuce did d'Artagnan mean by his last remark?" Maximilien stared at Athos' unexpressive face.

Following d'Artagnan's path with grave concern, Athos' eyes widened in something close to horror as he noticed the gentleman, and he used that term loosely, the lad was talking too and then seeing them both head upstairs. There was no way, no way in hell that the pup was going to find himself alone and defenceless with that beast! Getting to his feet Athos went to follow.

"Wait, Athos," Victor made a grab for the other man's arm but missed. "What of our orders?" He wasn't a dense man, regardless of how it sometimes appeared, but he understood rage and that's what filled Athos this moment.

"Jacques and Felix, from what I can tell, are not in distress but d'Artagnan soon will be if I don't get up there in time." Brushing past the rabble in the crowd, Athos took the stairs two at a time. He didn't know which room belonged to d'Artagnan, but Athos would break down each and every door if he had too just to find his youngest.

It ended up that Athos didn't have to concern himself about rescuing his pup after all as a large figure suddenly burst through one of the closed doors that littered the hallway. Splintering wood flew in all directions as a man bounced off a solid wall and landed in an ungainly heap on the dirty, wooden floor. Athos recognized him immediately as the giant d'Artagnan had just left with. The gargantuan figure was quite literally a mess, covered with blood and at first Athos froze seeing this thinking that it was d'Artagnan's own blood on the man. Then as the patron's jacket was already half off of him, Athos could see where a nasty gash was bleeding profusely and realized that it could only have been done by an attack with a main gauche. It would appear he had found d'Artagnan.

Leaning casually against a far wall, Athos lazily continued to watch the show and was most impressed with how d'Artagnan conducted himself.

A little ruffled around the edges, d'Artagnan stood over the patron, his chest heaving from his exertions of throwing the man off his body and protecting himself with his weapon. His shirt was torn, half in and half out of his pants and his hair was in disarray, but d'Artagnan was relatively in one piece and, most importantly... _undefiled_.

At first d'Artagnan had been overcome with fear thinking he wouldn't be able to handle the client due to the man's size but then he thought of how Athos didn't appear to believe d'Artagnan capable of carrying off this assignment and he literally saw red as his Gascon temper got the better of him. To hell with _head over heart_ he thought! So once d'Artagnan had set his mind to the task at hand, the patron never stood a chance.

Observing the client struggling to get up, d'Artagnan snarled at him in Gascon and was pleased when the brute, on unsteady legs, did his best to get as far away from d'Artagnan as was humanly possible.

Hearing someone in the background clapping their hands, d'Artagnan stared incredulously at his mentor's smiling face. "Enjoy yourself did you?"

A grin split his usually stoic features as Athos responded. "Very much indeed."

"You pulling us out?" d'Artagnan busied himself with tucking his shirt back into place, all the while knowing Athos watched his every movement. So he did his best not to wince in discomfort from a few bruises he had collected during the fight for his honor.

"Have you completed your mission then?"

"Non, not yet," d'Artagnan admitted glumly. "We haven't encountered anyone disgruntled enough to admit they've been blackmailed, nor have we located the proper paper trail leading us to Salomon's guilt," hearing Athos add nothing to that, d'Artagnan continued. "The few we do have who aired their complaints to the king will only give evidence if we find others willing to speak out against Salomon."

"Very well then," Athos murmured low.

" _Very well then... what_?" d'Artagnan repeated snappishly, his patience worn thin at this point and he did not care how he sounded to his mentor.

"I'm going to finish my drink," Athos smirked, turned his back on the boy and headed downstairs. But then he paused and turned completely around to face his protégé whose cross features showed clearly how upset he was at Athos' blase attitude. "Order another round of wine for my table when you go back down," Athos' blue eyes showed their amusement as d'Artagnan's mouth was agape. "I left poor Porthos and Aramis outside guarding the front of the building. They're probably thirsty by now." With a two fingered salute at the lad, Athos left d'Artagnan standing there staring at the empty spot he just vacated.

After getting over Athos' request, d'Artagnan finally made himself presentable enough to rejoin his own comrades. Felix and Jacques were anxious to know what had happened as both Musketeers had spotted Athos racing up the staircase.

"I see Maximilien and Victor are here as well," Jacques mentioned morosely, thinking that he and the others were about to be taken off this assignment. "Guess we're done here then."

"Non," d'Artagnan disagreed. " _Trust_ has been established and we still have our job to do here, mon freres."

"Ah, well then," Felix grinned impishly, "if that's the case, d'Artagnan," he sent the youngster a sly look as Felix pointed over toward the entrance. "Your admirer has once more come to see you, mon ami."

Following Felix's finger, d'Artagnan moaned softly seeing the familiar figure of Monsieur Trudeaux. "Not him again," he hissed.

"The man must enjoy violence," Jacques offered with laughter filling his voice.

"Yeah, d'Artagnan must have knocked that gent on his ass every single night since we've been here," Felix choked on his own mirth that threatened to escape but one look at d'Artagnan's woeful expression stopped him.

Slapping d'Artagnan on his back, Jacques headed off in one direction while Felix went in another. Leaving d'Artagnan to fend off Monsieur Trudeaux's unwanted attentions. But first d'Artagnan had to finish another order of business as he headed over to Henri and had that second round of drinks for Athos' table sent over. Having seen to that, d'Artagnan sucked in a breath and marched over to where Trudeaux was located and thought of the varied sacrifices he's made since earning his pauldron.

When this was all over d'Artagnan may question the inseparables if they had ever found themselves in a similar position. He was curious enough to wonder how they would have proceeded. Then again, d'Artagnan grinned to himself, perhaps they were never considered handsome enough for this type of assignment. He looked forward to rubbing it in as d'Artagnan approached his mark.

The End

++++

_Note:_  
The Rue Baille-Hoe means (give joy) and was actually one of many streets in Paris that held a bunch of brothels. It is now known as Rue Taillepain in the 4th arondissement near Porte Saint-Merri. I just liked the name and used it as a name for my brothel instead of the street.


End file.
